


On the Third Night of Hannukah....

by BarefootGirl



Series: Eight Ficlets of Hannukah [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-27
Updated: 2016-12-27
Packaged: 2018-09-12 12:32:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 572
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9071845
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BarefootGirl/pseuds/BarefootGirl
Summary: The third of 8 planned winter holiday ficlets. 
Implied Destiel, disgustingly cozy Winchester-family banter.





	

They’d been marathoning movies all night, trying to catch her up; the last thing Mary remembered was watching “Practical Magic” - Castiel's pick - before waking up with a blanket thrown over her shoulders and a pillow shoved under her head, the television turned off. She smiled, inhaling the now-familiar scent of her sons lingering around her, mixed with the first aroma of coffee drifting in from the kitchen, along with the low sound of voices.

“Kwanzaa, dude. It’s-“

“I know what Kwanzaa is, okay?”

“You do?”

“Yeah, I do. African-American celebration of social and cultural unity, yada yadda. Don’t you remember, back in Ohio? “ 

She draped the blanket over her, and followed the coffee and voices. 

“You were probably too young to remember, yeah,” Dean was saying. “But the other family staying at the motel that month, they celebrated. Mostly food, some presents. Their mom saw that dad wasn’t around much, and kinda scooped us up that week.” 

“Oh.” Sam had a mug in his hands, his hair sleep-tousled. “No, I don’t remember.”

“Yeah well, you were probably only like seven.” Dean was in that robe of his, barefoot, fussing with the coffee machine. “And it’s a made-up holiday, anyway.” 

“All holidays are ‘made up,’ Dean, Castiel said, and she flicked her gaze to where he was sitting at the table, a mug of coffee in front of him, untouched. “Even ones based on historical events are shifted and rearranged based on political and social requirements. There are so many holidays set in December because the need to bring light into a darkened month is-“

Mary’s lips curled in a faint smile even as Sam made an “I’m not rolling my eyes but I’m totally rolling my eyes” expression, and Castiel stopped. “And you know that, too,” he said. “My apologies.”

“Well, I have no idea what Kwanzaa is,” Mary said, stepping through the doorway, causing Dean to turn around. “So if someone wants to educate me, that’ll be fine, Sam.”

“Hey mom.” Her youngest looked up and smiled. “Sleep well?”

“I don’t know,” she deadpanned back at him. “I was asleep.”

“Great, so now we know where Dean gets his alleged sense of humor from.” 

“Hey, I’m hilarious," Dean objected. "Ask anyone.”

“Cas’ opinion doesn’t count; he thought Uriel was funny, too.”

“Ow. Harsh. Cas, help me out here.”

“Uriel certainly had a more advanced sense of humor than you.”

“That was kinda the opposite of helping, Cas.”

She took the chair next to Castiel, and stole his coffee while he was distracted bantering with Dean. She might be the youngest in the bunker, in terms of actual years lived, but she was still mom, and that came with certain rights. Besides, he wasn’t drinking it anyway, and it had just the right amount of sugar to her taste, almost as though-

She stopped and glanced sideways suspiciously, but the angel and her eldest son were having one of their silent conversations, and she looked away to catch Sam watching them with an odd expression on his face, somewhere between a frown and a smart, before he noticed her watching him, at which point at turned into an embarrassed shrug.

“Kwanzaa?” she prompted him. Whatever Castiel and Dean were silently saying to each other, she certainly didn’t need to be an active observer of it. Any distraction would be useful.

From the speed with which Sam launched into his explanation, he agreed.

**Author's Note:**

> For all my readers who celebrate Kwanzaa, and those of us who learned about it from them.
> 
>  
> 
> Unbeta'd, because my usuals are up in their eggnog and latkes.... :-)


End file.
